


Thank My Lucky Stars

by YesMadamePresident



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Soulmate AU, soulmate first words au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-20 10:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16134932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesMadamePresident/pseuds/YesMadamePresident
Summary: Set in S1E18, The Time is at Hand, during the doomsday cult crisis in Bolivia. This is an AU where everyone has a tattoo somewhere on their body that tells them the first words they'll hear their soulmate say. Elizabeth and Henry are soulmates, and they meet for the first time when she recruits him to help with the Covenant of John situation.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr and fanfiction.net under the same name. I think I might make this into a series of soulmate AUs (there are so many variations), but for now this is finished. Let me know if you think I should make more of these.  
> Thanks for reading!

“Good morning, ma’am,” came Blake’s chipper greeting as the elevator door opened to reveal him standing at attention.

Elizabeth smiled. “Morning, Blake,” she answered, eyeing the paper bag he was holding. “Is that a bear claw?”

“You better believe it,” he said, handing her the bag along with a coffee. He turned to follow her as she headed for her office. “The staff is waiting in the conference room, and they have new information for you on the situation in Bolivia.”

“That’s good,” she said as she reached her office and moved to take off her coat. “I’m hoping the situation isn’t as dire as it looks from the outside.”

When Elizabeth walked into the conference room, Matt and Daisy were in another passive aggressive feud.

“All I meant,” Matt was saying, “was that just because you and Winn didn’t work out, that doesn’t mean it was because you weren’t soulmates. There were other issues involved-” at this, Daisy shot him a glare “-and it doesn’t mean it _couldn’t_ have worked out. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life waiting for some guy to come along and say whatever you’ve got written on your--”

“Good morning, Madam Secretary,” Nadine said loudly, rising from her seat as the secretary entered the room.

Matt cutt off abruptly and stood as well, along with the rest of the staff. “Morning, ma’am,” they chorused.

Elizabeth waved them down, and they returned to their seats. She took a sip of her coffee as she sat down as well. “Morning, guys. Let’s get started. Somebody update me on Bolivia.”

 

* * *

 

“Russell, that compound is on a hair-trigger,” said Elizabeth. “Sending in the military is just going to push them over the edge, which is exactly what we are trying to avoid.”

“What we’re trying to avoid,” Russell argued, “is another U.S. government official getting killed. JSOC’s already done an assessment on sending a team in. They say we can avoid up to 60% of the members dying by their own hand.”

“And what about the congressman?” she countered, sitting back on her desk.

“We’re not gonna just let them take him to paradise, not without a fight.”

“Russell, you can’t do this,” she insisted, standing to face him down.

“This is our only viable option! What do you suggest?” Russell asked.

Elizabeth thought for a moment, scrambling for an answer that wouldn’t make her sound desperate.”

“Let’s-what if we send someone in?”

“Send who in?”

“A negotiator. An agent, maybe.” Elizabeth swept a hand over hair as the idea started to form. “You know, my team and I have been looking into this guy, Reverend Finch. He’s not your average doomsday cult leader. He likes debate; he encourages his followers to question his beliefs. Maybe he’d be willing to question them as well.”

“A man prepares to commit suicide in preparation for judgement day, takes 180 of his disciples with him, and you’re saying he’s not sure of his beliefs?” Russell stared at her, incredulous.

“I’m saying he might be willing to talk. I’ve seen it before, Russell, you send the right person in there, get the guy talking, and it’s amazing what these tactics can do. It’s at least less violent than sending a team of navy seals to storm the place.”

Russell let out a sigh. “Okay, Bess, you get your team together and pick the right guy for this job, and we’ll take this to the president. But if this plan doesn’t work out, I swear to God-”

“It’s my ass,” Elizabeth finished for him. “I got it.”

 

* * *

  


Elizabeth gave her staff an hour to come up with the right person for the job. When their time was up, she walked into the conference room, hoping against hope that they had found what they were looking for. She found her staff gathered around the table, with Jay standing in front of a white board which held various notes, along with pictures of some candidates. “Okay,” she said, “what have you got for me?”Jay turned away from the whiteboard to face his boss.

“Well, Madam Secretary, I think we may have found you the perfect man.” Daisy snorted, but Jay ignored her and gestured to a picture on the board of a man in reading glasses, who seemed to be posing with a book. “This is Dr. Henry McCord. He has a PhD in Religious Studies, he’s published nine books, been on a few low-profile talk shows. Currently, he's a professor at Georgetown University, but he has experience working with the NSA, and he’s done consulting work for the pentagon. He’s pretty-well qualified.”

“Not to mention easy on the eyes,” said Daisy, taking a sip of her coffee.

“He’s a world-renowned religious scholar,” Jay continued. “If you want to make Reverend Finch feel brought to the table, this is the way to do it.”

“You think Finch has heard of the guy?”

“I’d expect so. This man is pretty well-known in the field of religion and philosophy, and I’d expect Finch to have done his research.”

Elizabeth looked at Matt, Daisy, Nadine, and Blake. “Are we all in agreement on this?” she asked.

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Nadine. The others nodded their assent.

“Well, alright, then. I’ll text Russell. Blake, I want you to get in touch with Dr. McCord. I’ll need him to meet me at the White House. Try to convey to him the urgency of this request.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

 

* * *

 

 

A few hours later, Elizabeth and Russell had managed to sell the president on this plan, and, having discussed it with the joint chiefs, were on their way back to Russell’s office.

Adele informed them that Dr. McCord was waiting inside for them. Russell looked at Elizabeth. “This McCord guy had better be all he’s cracked up to be.”

Elizabeth could only shrug, open the door, and walk in.

Dr. McCord was sitting in the chair in the corner, but he stood upon their entry.

“Dr. McCord,” said Russell, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Allow me to introduce you to Secretary Adams.”

Elizabeth smiled warmly at him. “Dr. McCord, I’m absolutely thrilled to be working with you,” she said, shaking his hand. At this, the man’s eyes blew wide and his smile faltered. Elizabeth wondered if he was just intimidated--it wouldn’t be the first time--until she heard his next words.

“Truly, it’s an honor,” he said, when he had found his voice again.

Years of CIA work could not have prepared Elizabeth for the effort it took for her to control her reaction in that moment. Her facial expression contorted into one of shock, with a hint of excitement, if only for a split second. Then it returned to a polite smile, and she released the handshake that had lasted a bit too long.

Russell glanced warily between them. “Do you two know each other?” he asked.

Elizabeth became the first to break eye contact, shifting her focus back to Russell and the matter at hand. “Nope,” she said quickly. She sat down quickly, gesturing for the two men to do the same. Dr. McCord sat in the chair across from hers, and Russell dragged the matching one away from his desk to sit facing the two of them. “Dr. McCord,” Elizabeth began, “what do you know about a group called the Covenant of John?”

At this, he seemed to snap back into work mode. “Well, only what I’ve managed to glean in the hour since I spoke with your assistant, which isn’t much. On the surface, your run-of-the-mill doomsday cult, led by a Reverend Wesley Finch. When it comes to Revelation, he takes a premillenial post-tribulational view, and he believes the rapture to be spiritual lifting to the heavens, rather than a physical one.”

“So, just the basics,” interjected Elizabeth, before he could continue.

“Beyond all the scholarly, theologian mumbo-jumbo, what do you know that can help us?” asked Russell.

Henry frowned. “Well, I don’t know. I’m not sure what exactly you need my help with.”

“Well, Bess here thinks that Finch can be reasoned with. We’re hoping if we can send you in there, in all your best-selling authorial glory, he’ll feel important enough not to kill himself and 180 other people.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “What Russell is being so tactful in saying is that we think Reverend Finch wants recognition. Part of the reason he left for Bolivia is that the federal government wouldn’t grant him the tax-exempt status of a faith based group. I think what he’s looking for is legitimacy. Our hope is that if you talk to him, being an internationally-acclaimed theological scholar, maybe you can make him feel like his message is being heard. And maybe in the process, you can talk him off the ledge...so to speak.”

Dr. McCord took a deep breath, avoiding Elizabeth's eyes as he responded. “So, just to be clear on this, you want me to get on a plane to Bolivia, go into a locked compound with a bunch of suicidal cult followers, who are probably armed, and have a calm, theological debate with the head of their cult to try to talk him out of his fervently held beliefs?” He looked up at her, finally making eye contact.

Elizabeth swallowed nervously. “Yes, Dr. McCord. That’s what the President is asking of you.”

He managed a taut smile. “Well, then I suppose I serve at the pleasure.”

“Great,” said Russell. “I’ll go tell the President.”

And with that, he went into the Oval Office, leaving Elizabeth and Henry alone. They held each other's gaze, each wondering who would be the first to speak.

It turned out to be Elizabeth. “So, you said...I mean, those were my words.”

Henry let out an almost undetectable sigh of relief. “Yeah. Uh, me too.”

“So that means...” She couldn’t say the words. Not yet. “Now what?” she asked, shifting uneasily in her seat.

Henry smiled slightly. “What about coffee? You know, after the doomsday cult thing.”

Elizabeth smiled back at him. “You can tell me all about post-modern tribulatism.”

“I might bore you,” he said.

“Oh, I think you’d be hard-pressed to do that, Dr. McCord.”

“I think you’d better call me Henry,” he said.

Elizabeth felt an unexpected flutter in her chest at that. “Only if you call me Elizabeth.”

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Henry and a team of Seals were in an airport hangar preparing to leave for Bolivia, and Elizabeth had come along in her capacity as Secretary of State, to send him off. “So how'd you feel about meeting the president?” she asked him.

Henry grinned back at her. “Well personally, I was more excited that I met you,” he said.

Elizabeth chewed the inside of her lip. “Now, that's a good line.”

Her face grew more serious for a moment. “Come back safe, okay?”

“Of course,” he said. “I've got a date this weekend that I wouldn't miss for the world.”

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth freaks out in the elevator, debriefs with her staff, and meets Henry at the airport.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people asked for a second chapter, and I got inspired, so here we are. I hope y'all enjoy this! Let me know if there are other msec soulmate AUs you'd like to see. Thanks for reading :)

 

_“He’s got a knife.”_

_“Still no clean shot.”_

_“Hold on, Henry.”_

_“Sniper achieved target; Cardinal’s good.”_

 

_“The time is nigh!”_

_“Christine, No. Alamo! Alamo!”_

 

_“We’ve located the congressman.”_

_“He’s walking.”_

_“Thank the Lord for small miracles.”_

_“Can we please get my- get my agent out of there?”_

 

_“We have the Cardinal. Target is safe.”_

 

_“It appears to be a mass casualty event. Estimated 30 dead.”_

 

_“Truly, it’s an honor.”_

 

These were the words that played over and over in Elizabeth’s mind as she rode with her motorcade back to the State Department. She couldn’t help but think not only of the 37 lives lost in the raid, but also of how close she came to losing the life that was said to be intertwined with hers.

It seemed silly-- she’d heard so much about the connection one feels upon meeting their soulmate, but she’d always dismissed it as an over-romanticized version of the truth --yet she couldn’t help but feel an undeniable draw to Henry. She’d always considered herself a realist, with a healthy dash of optimism. Now, she felt ridiculous as she thought of how effortlessly kind Henry seemed, how his beautiful smile reached his eyes every time, and how well his hand fit into hers when they shook hands. She had never anticipated how warm she would feel when she heard the words she had pondered over for decades now. At the time, she hadn’t been able to dwell on it, but now, as the elevator traveled up to the seventh floor, her mind drifted back and forth from the raid on the compound to everything she knew and wanted to know about Henry.

Her thoughts were broken, however, when the doors slid open to reveal the normal hustle and bustle of the seventh floor. She squared her shoulders and headed to the conference room.

When she opened the doors, her staff looked up at her expectantly.

“Madam Secretary,” said Nadine. “I hope everything went well,” she said, sounding more like she was asking a question.

“There’s a story starting to break in the news,” said Daisy, glancing between the secretary and her tablet. “They don’t have much information, but they’re saying there were shots fired. Does that mean they went ahead with the raid? What happened with Dr. McCord?”

“Did they do it?” asked Matt, before Elizabeth could even process Daisy’s questions. “Did they all kill themselves?”

Elizabeth sighed. “Thirty-seven of them died,” she said.

“Well, I’m already getting calls,” said Daisy. “We’re gonna need to get ahead of this if we want to control the narrative.”

Elizabeth went to pour herself a cup of coffee before she sat down. “I’m going to have Matt draft a statement,” she agreed. “But before that, and before I can respond to all of your interrogating,” she added, giving Matt and Daisy a hard look, “I want to focus on tying up all of these loose ends. Blake, call Russell Jackson’s office and find out what they need from state in order to get the surviving Covenant of John members home.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m on it.”

With that, he left the room, and Elizabeth turned to her chief of staff. “Nadine, I want you to reach out to the Bolivian ambassador. I’m worried about how Bolivia feels about us essentially running an op on their soil. Try to smooth things over with them without actually apologizing, if you can help it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Nadine. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Elizabeth moved down the list. “Matt, I need you to craft a statement that focuses on the plusses without sounding like we’re obfuscating. The white house wants to look strong on this, so look on the bright side.”

“We rescued the congressman, went for the diplomatic option first, and saved 30% more lives than we would have otherwise,” said Matt.

Elizabeth pointed at him and nodded. “You got it. Daisy…keep fielding phone calls. And be prepared to give that statement.”

Daisy nodded. “I’ll schedule a press conference.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Daisy, make sure you’re careful about releasing any names. I know we’re focusing on the positives, but thirty-seven families lost a loved one today, and they shouldn’t hear it from you.”

Daisy swallowed thickly and nodded. “Of course.”

A little while later, Daisy was going over the “optics” side of things with Elizabeth in her office when Blake came in. “Madam Secretary, I’ve spoken with a few different people. The Covenant of John members, the SEAL team, and Dr. McCord are being debriefed and processed, but it seems to be an arduous affair. The best estimate right now is that they’ll leave for La Paz in a few hours, take off at around 9pm tonight, and arrive in D.C. at approximately 8am tomorrow morning.”

“Great,” said Elizabeth. “Keep me updated on the flight schedule; I want to welcome them at the airport.

Daisy perked up. “Should I arrange for a photographer to--”

But Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. These people have been through a lot.”

Daisy seemed dissatisfied, but she didn’t press on the matter.

Now that Elizabeth had passed on most of the Bolivia clean-up to her staff, the rest of her day was pretty much freed up for her normal daily tasks-- which, in this case, included a meeting with the Antiguan ambassador, a video call to the US ambassador to Belgium, and a few phone calls back and forth with the Greek Minister of Foreign Affairs. Blake brought her a few papers to sign near the end of the day, and then he was ushering her out and urging her to get some sleep. Blake was adamant that she needed rest, and she agreed, but she thought that her getting any that night was unlikely.

 

***

 

Elizabeth stood and watched as all around her, teary-eyed families greeted their loved ones. Congressman Ames passed her, and she considered approaching him, to communicate her sympathy, or her gratitude, though for what she didn’t know. But then he looked at her and turned away, and she figured he didn’t want her pity. She turned around, still subconsciously looking for Henry, when she saw Gary Coomer holding a bouquet of flowers and looking increasingly worried. Her heart broke for him when she remembered seeing his daughter’s name on the list of those who had taken their lives in the compound. Dreading every step, she made her way over to him. He looked up at her with a combination of hope and fear in his eyes that she could hardly stand to see.

“Where is she?” he asked, daring to let a small smile flicker across his features. It quickly went away when he saw Elizabeth’s expression of grief and guilt.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

He let out a small sigh, looking around at all the happy families before again making eye contact with Elizabeth. “She did it herself?”

Elizabeth nodded. Looking down, she opened her hand to reveal the fertility necklace he had given her just days earlier, in the hopes that the magic that had brought Christine to his family would be able to bring her back to him. He looked down at the necklace in her hand, but then he turned away, and Elizabeth’s eyes followed him out the door. She shoved the necklace back in her pocket. The magic was gone.

When she turned around, there was Henry coming through the door, and her breath caught in her throat. This was a different kind of magic altogether. She felt her heart get lighter the moment she could count herself a witness to the fact that Henry was okay, even as she noted the look of sorrow on his face. She didn’t have much time to contemplate this before they were face to face. She held to her professionalism and shook his hand, managing a small smile. “I’m glad you’re back,” she said. “I want to thank you on behalf of the State Department, myself included, and of the president. Thank you, Henry.”

Henry could see the deep sincerity in her eyes, but he felt undeserving. “Thirty-seven dead,” he said.

“ _Henry_.” Elizabeth’s heart broke for the guilt he was carrying. “Look,” she said, placing her hand on his arm and turning him to see the families that still filled the space. “Look at how many you brought home.”

Henry sighed. “I was so focused on trying to get through to Finch that I ignored his deputy. I-I should have tried to connect with him too, I mean, it was working. Finch was listening.” He shook his head before lifting it back up to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Madam Secretary,” he said, but then he saw the flicker of hurt cross her face and immediately regretted it.

“Back to that, are we?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light despite her hurt and confusion.

Henry shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Poor choice of words. I guess I didn’t know if I still get to call you Elizabeth,” he confessed.

Elizabeth found that she quite liked the sound of her name on his lips. “What, after saving the lives of 143 Americans?” she asked, eyes flashing. “You can call me whatever you want. Besides, I thought we were over the formalities.”

Henry raised a brow at her. “‘ I would like to thank you on behalf of the state department and the president of the United States,” he mimicked, each word dripping with mock professionalism.

Elizabeth smiled, a real, full smile this time. “Come on, that was just the official stuff. This is _my_ thanks,” she said. She took a bold step forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

Henry’s arms came up to wrap around her back, and he pulled her closer. This was what people meant when they talked about the feeling of meeting one’s soulmate. It just felt _right_.

“Thank you,” whispered Elizabeth, and then she was pulling back, and it was over far too soon. She looked up at him. “And thanks for coming home.”

“Come on,” Henry said, “I’m a Marine.”

Elizabeth cocked her head at him. “Really? My staff didn’t tell me that.”

“I’d imagine there’s quite a bit of information about me that your staff didn’t tell me,” he said, picking up his bag and turning toward the exit.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to take a crash course over coffee,” she said, looking up at him with uncertainty in her eyes. “We are still on for coffee, right?”

Henry smiled brightly at her, and it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. “Your entire security detail won’t be able to keep me away.”

“I wouldn’t dream of letting them,” she insisted. Her hand migrated over to his, and they walked out together, hand in hand.

Henry stole a glance at her and knew how lucky he was to be holding the hand of the most beautiful woman he had ever met. His guilt over the situation in Bolivia wasn’t fully assuaged, nor was her apprehension at giving another person the power to hurt her. But for the moment, their thoughts were on better, brighter things.


End file.
